


Balls of Steel

by LewdPointyNoses



Category: Kaiji, 賭博黙示録カイジ | Tobaku Mokushiroku Kaiji | Ultimate Survivor Kaiji (Anime & Manga)
Genre: AU, Anal Sex, Butts, Contest, Erections, French Kissing, Hot, Hugging, Intense, Kissing, M/M, Noises, Porn, Porn Logic, Puns & Word Play, Slash, Smut, Suits, Tool - Freeform, Workplace, Workplace Sex, Yaoi, balls, bara, casino - Freeform, dungarees, fixing, fkmt - Freeform, haha! balls!, handyman, kaiji - Freeform, kaiji sidestory, pachinko, porn dialogue, worker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-12 02:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11152074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LewdPointyNoses/pseuds/LewdPointyNoses
Summary: Ichijou was stressed out. "The Bog", his prized pachinko machine, was broken. He would have to call a specialist. Little did he know that this fanfiction was a porn setting, and calling a worker always ends in a very specific way...[Porn Logic AU. A friendly challenge between author SimonBlackchill and me, to write "Cheesy Porn MuraIchi", in less than 2000 words.]





	Balls of Steel

**Author's Note:**

> Here is his fanfic, "Troubleshooter"!  
> [Link!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11319927)
> 
> Thank you again for doing this challenge together!

„Damn!“ exclaimed Ichijou through clenched teeth, as he threw the screwdriver on the ground. It simply was no use. ‘The Bog’, his prized, massive pachinko machine, was still broken and refused to work.

He took a step back from the engine, and folded his arms. Being a casino manager was really stressful, and he certainly didn’t need this additional problem. ‘The Bog’ had too many issues with the mechanical parts. This wasn’t a simple case like with the other electronical pachinko machines, where a simple reboot would make everything run smoothly again. This would be hard, intense and especially time-consuming work on this Sunday evening. Ichijou sighed.

He wandered around the big machine in the middle of the empty floor, and took out his phone. He hadn’t called a specialist for a long time. But sometimes, things just needed to get done.

~

Ichijou ran in circles in the small dark hallway that led to the back entrance. It had been over an hour now that he had called the pachinko manufacturer. “All of our workers are currently preoccupied. We will send a substitute over as soon as possible.”, the friendly lady had said on the phone. Ichijou grew more and more nervous, checking his watch repeatedly. “One hour and nine minutes already...” he mumbled to himself, tapping his foot. The higher-ups from the Teiai Corporation would grow impatient soon if he didn’t fix this issue fast.

The doorbell finally rang. Ichijou rushed towards the heavy metal door. Without even looking, he opened it and started speaking immediately: “Good evening, my name is Ichijou, we need to hurry, Sir-“

In front of him stood a man. In deep blue dungarees, with no shirt underneath, his muscles glistening in the evening sun, a heavy toolbox in his hand, his sturdy face turning to Ichijou. His face was sharp, distinct and his eyes seemed to flicker with passion. “ _Hello. My name is Murakami._ ” he said, his voice smooth as melting butter in the sun, “ _You called for my services...?_ ”

Ichijou blinked a few times and let his stare hang in the air. He quickly shook his head, recollected himself and guided the man to come inside: “You are from the pachinko machine manufacturer? If so, we need to hurry, the machine is upstairs, please follow my lead.” Murakami examined the entrance, then looked at Ichijou, gently tilting his head. He asked: “ _So... Is it ok for you that... I just come inside your back door that fast...?_ ” Ichijou raised a single eyebrow. “Er... Yes, certainly, no problem.”

He waved Murakami to come inside. As he walked past him, Ichijou took a whiff of his smell. Sweat, worker’s sweat to be more precise, mixed with some manly unique flavour that was simply intoxicating. “ _Excuse me..._ ” whispered the man, as he heard Ichijou’s sniffs, “ _I'm sorry, I had another job before this one... Busy day... So much work... All that sweat and oil everywhere... It just leaves a certain... scent..._ ”

Ichijou grew confused at this man’s speech patterns, which felt slow, with pauses, but very pronounced, with a constant smooth accentuation on everything. He gave no further thought to this matter and they both hurried through the small hallways, towards the bright casino floors. “ _These hallways are so... tight... So... narrow..._ ” remarked Murakami behind him, as they took a few shortcuts. “Yes, yes,” Ichijou waved his hand at that remark, “behind the scenes of every fancy stage it’s always a bit cramped.”

They had reached the big hall of ‘The Bog’, coming in through a tiny side door. “This is it.” Said Ichijou and pointed at it. “ _Wow... What a big pachinko machine... So... huge..._ ” said Murakami surprised, placing his toolbox on the ground. Ichijou crossed his arms and grinned. “Yes, it’s an oversize one. 700 million yen prize money, it is my pride!” “ _Oh wow... You can be proud of that size..._ ” whispered Murakami, rubbing his chin and looking at Ichijou. “ _So... What’s wrong with it...? What do you need my skilled hands for...?_ ” Ichijou stepped up to the machine, over the platforms, and pointed at the plastic container that was mounted to it. “You see these little marbles out of metal? The machine is not picking them up correctly.” Said Ichijou. “ _So... Are you saying that... it can’t handle your balls right?_ ” whispered Murakami.

Ichijou swallowed. What a strange way of talking this man had. So alluring, soft, yet... determined. Was he doing that on purpose? “Y-Yes... I would like that it handles my balls right... I polish them every week, they need to be handled with care...” stammered Ichijou, unsure of what to say. Murakami came closer, his eyes locked on Ichijou’s, and murmured: “ _You are a busy man... I admire that... Do you find time... to relax sometimes...?_ ” The pachinko balls gave a soft crunchy noise as Murakami stepped up the platform too. “W-Well... Not as much as I would want t-to...” murmured Ichijou shyly, blushing. Murakami stood now directly in front of Ichijou. His eyes seemed glint with fire, his lips were parted, and Ichijou could hear his low breathing, see the tanned, glistening skin, the hint of soft black chest hair under those deep blue dungarees. “ _I know how you could relax... from all that... stress..._ ” he whispered, his hot breath caressing Ichijou’s face. He was far too close now. Ichijou was nervous, and tried to walk backwards, but, suddenly, couldn’t go further anymore - the cool, slick glass of ‘The Bog’ was in his back.

“A-ah, well, shouldn’t we focus on the-“ started Ichijou, trying to get to the topic of machine fixing again, but just in this moment, he was interrupted. By Murakami’s lips meeting his. “Mmnh!” sighed Ichijou surprised into the kiss, but he couldn’t help himself. It was too good of a feeling. Murakami’s tongue split his lips apart, entering him with force and vigour, meeting his, twisting around, wet, gliding into his mouth. Murakami was so expressive while kissing, moaning loudly “ _Mmh... Nmh... Gnah..._ ”, full of want and sex for him. Pressed against the glass, Murakami’s big, strong hands held Ichijou by his hips. Ichijou was falling for the kiss, more and more, the longer it went, he put up his quivering hands and held on to the back of Murakami's dungarees. It was intense. Hot. So sudden and adventurous. They met again and again, loud, vocal and passionate. Strings of saliva formed when they finally parted, and Ichijou tried to catch his breath again. Murakami let go of him, and stood there, eyes fixating his. Staring deeply.

Ichijou cleared his throat, patted a bit of dust out of his suit, and said: “Ehrm... As I was saying, we should get back to work.” As arousing as that little experience had been, he still couldn’t relax. ‘The Bog’ needed to be fixed.

“Please gather your tools, I would like to start.” said Ichijou, pointing at the toolbox a few meters away, while trying to fight his visible blush. Murakami’s eyes followed his hand motion for a second, then he stared back at Ichijou. Ichijou, however, turned around, facing the big pachinko machine. What a strange day today was, he thought to himself, a drip of sweat running down his temples.

Suddenly, Murakami’s hands slid around him, holding him from behind, his big chest pressed against his back. “H-Hah...!” gasped Ichijou, stumbled a step forward, supporting himself on his elbows on the pachinko machine glass. Murakami whispered lowly into his ear, his lips nearly brushing his earlobes: “ _Oh... But I got all my necessary tools right here... Hah..._ ” One hand squeezed Ichijou’s chest gently, the other one was going down, sliding tightly across his shirt, towards his loins. “Ah...!” gasped Ichijou, getting more aroused with every second. “ _In fact... I only need one tool..._ ” he heard Murakami’s voice behind him, and then he suddenly felt it:

Murakami’s hard, massive erection grinding against his arse. “H-h-hah...!” stammered Ichijou, seeing only the reflection of his and Murakami’s aroused faces in the glass in front of him. It turned him on. So much. Too much. Murakami’s strong hands, his determined face, his manly smell, his sweat, his big, strong cock against his butt cheeks.

Murakami’s hand reached Ichijou’s crotch, his skilled fingers opened his suit pants without looking, and entered his underwear. “Gnah! Hah!” moaned Ichijou louder, frowning in passion, as Murakami was grabbing Ichijou's already erect shaft, sliding up and down, with a firm grip. “ _Ah... You seem to be enjoying my services... Sir..._ ” was Murakami’s slow, erotic voice next to his ear, now slowing syncing up every grind and stroke, from front and behind. “ _A satisfied customer always brings me... the greatest... deepest... pleasure..._ ” he continued, and Ichijou could hear Murakami licking his lips at this sentence. Ichijou couldn’t speak much, he was blushing, panting, getting so aroused, being held so tightly, feeling so much at the same time. “H-Hah...” he sighed. Murakami however, continued: “ _Do you wish to... further... explore... my... craftsmanship...?_ ” he whispered under his breath, nuzzling Ichijou’s neck. “Y-Yes...” stammered Ichijou, barely keeping himself together, trembling in anticipation. “B-But... We need to get to work soon...” he simply couldn’t put his mind to rest about the broken machine.

“ _Oh... That’s not a problem at all..._ ” answered Murakami, both of his hands releasing Ichijou, taking a step back. Ichijou looked over his shoulder, and what he saw, took his breath away.

With a simple pull on both his shoulder straps, Murakami had taken off his dungarees, which fell immediately to the ground, and revealed his completely naked, tanned, fit body. He hadn’t even been wearing underwear. But now, Ichijou could see Murakami’s erection, he had felt so intensely before. Ichijou’s eyes widened.

It was big. Hard. Good-looking. Massive. Strong. Not comically large, or grotesque, no - beautiful, firm, and a size that would make one simply go: “Wow...”

“Wow...” whispered Ichijou. Murakami came closer again, and he immediately pulled down Ichijou’s suit trousers and briefs from behind. Ichijou twitched and looked shyly forward again, and yet, he didn’t want to take his eyes off Murakami’s massive erection, that was all just for him. He turned his head around again. Just an inch away from his face, was Murakami, snuggling up to him, holding him.

“ _You wish for a quick... but... intense... and hard job...?_ ” said Murakami, looking deep into Ichijou’s eyes. “ _I can... certainly... deliver on that..._ ” Ichijou gulped. He could feel Murakami’s hard cock against his naked butt cheek. “ _Shall we begin...?_ ”

~

“AH! YES! NGAH! HAH! FUCK! YES!” screamed Ichijou as he pressed his face close against the glass of the “Bog” - getting fucked so hard from behind by Murakami, his strong, hard cock entering him again and again, his loins slapping wet against his butt cheeks. Ichijou was clenching tight around Murakami’s rigid, massive shaft, going in and out, deep and fast. Murakami held him by his hips with a strong grip, grinning, entering him again and again, making him feel amazing, out of this world. As Ichijou’s eyes nearly turned back into his skull, so full of ecstasy, moaning louder, his fingertips pressing against the glass, he started chuckling to himself, his voice becoming so much higher in pure, excessive lust: “HAH! HEH. HAHAHAHA! **YES! YES!!!** ” Ichijou simply was in heaven, getting banged to the highest heights, losing himself, all stress falling off him, and it was at this precise moment that he concluded that Teiai and ‘The Bog’ could wait.

Wait a long, long time.

Ichijou smiled widely, nearly going cross-eyed, panting along to the heavy rhythm.

Yes. A long, long time.

 

**The End.**

**Author's Note:**

> PS: How many minutes did Ichijou wait for Murakami to arrive?
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, leave a kudos and/or a comment, I'm always happy about feedback!
> 
> Or just visit me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/LewdPointyNoses) ! :3


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